


The Wedding Date

by StubbornBeast



Series: Foray into the Supernatural [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on The Wedding Date, Castiel is an illustrator, Dean is a male escort, Destiel - Freeform, Explicit because future sex scene, Fluffy, Happy Ending, M/M, Modern AU, Sabriel - Freeform, and language, past castiel/balthazar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15557079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StubbornBeast/pseuds/StubbornBeast
Summary: Castiel Novak was too proud to show up to his half-brother Gabriel's wedding without a date, not wanting to endure the pity from his family at being single and alone. Enter: Dean Smith, a man who gets paid to pose as a companion for those who can afford it. It took quite a bit of convincing, but Castiel convinced himself to reach out to Dean Smith and hire him as his date for the impending wedding in California. Even if it was all just for show, at least having a neutral person there to help him might keep him sane by the end of the week. He should have expected Dean to be smooth and charming, but he never expected to lose himself in the act.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! This is a little story I plan on doing based on the movie The Wedding Date, with obvious adjustments.  
> I got the idea in my head and just couldn't let it go.
> 
> So, here we go!  
> Lemme know what you guys think, I'll try and update as often as I can. 
> 
> xo.

The bustling sounds of the streets of New York never ceased. 

Thousands of people walked the streets each and every day, moving over the same sidewalks and falling into line one behind the other. Many an outsider might call the people of New York self-centered, and many an outsider might be right. It depended on who you talked to. 

Normally, the sounds of the busy streets outside of his apartment window didn't bother Castiel. But this particular morning? They grated on his ears and reminded him of how they'd be fading in just a few hours as his plane took him far away from New York for a week spent on the opposite side of the country. Every time he traveled away from New York, Castiel was reminded of why he'd left home in the first place and why he'd never chosen to go back on his own. California may have felt like home to him in the past, but New York was his home now. 

"Shit." 

Castiel rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Broad fingers carded through perpetually messy, dark locks as he stood up from bed and glanced towards the clock on his bedside table. He'd hardly slept a wink, nerves pooling and coiling in his gut, and it wasn't any different this morning than it was the night before. A groan slipping from his lips, Castiel made his way out into his combined living room and kitchen, pressing the button on his electric teakettle. Each movement was practiced, a part of his morning routine, his ritual. A broad yawn parted his chapped lips as he approached the broad window in his kitchen and glanced down at the busy streets below. His apartment was in a nice area on the edge of the city, but it still didn't escape the congestion of travel. He preferred it that way: he wasn't a social man by nature, especially being an illustrator, and hearing the noise outside of his window helped him to feel less lonely. 

A soft beep let him know that the water for his tea was ready and he prepared one of his favorite mugs, adorned with little bees. By the time Castiel had found a seat at his small dining table, opened his laptop and thumbed over the wedding invitation once again, he was able to take a sip of his tea before logging into his laptop. The screen from the previous night greeted him and he grimaced briefly, minimizing the tab with the blog page and opening a website to view and confirm his flight information. Who cared if he already had it memorized from having looked it over several times already? It was always good to be prepared, right? 

Castiel looked at the blog page at least seven more times (against his better judgement) before finally double-checking his flight information and closing his laptop. Glancing at the clock on his microwave, he knew he needed to get his ass in gear if he was going to be on time at all. And Cas knew that if he missed his flight... well, he'd never make it to California and the whole planning process would go to waste. 

He was jumping in the shower when his phone rang on the countertop by his bathroom sink. The voicemail rang out in the small space as he vigorously brushed his teeth and buttoned up his shirt at the same time, holding the toothbrush in his mouth as he tucked the tails of his shirt into his jeans. It took all of Castiel's willpower not to picture Dean's face ~~which he totally did~~ as his voice filled the small bathroom space. 

_"Good morning, Cas. I got your email and figured it would be better to simply call you and give you some reassurance. You'll catch your flight; I know you have it memorized. Don't ask how I know – you just... **seem** like the type."_ A chuckle that definitely did not send tingles down to Castiel's toes as he pulled his socks on was heard breaking up the little speech. _"And I'll be there to pick you up from the airport. Your family will be happy to see you, and your ex-fiancé won't know what hit 'im, alright? Trust me. See you in a few hours."_

Fully dressed and with his suitcases packed, Castiel found himself staring at a shoebox on his bed, looking through old photographs. He hardly recognized himself in those pictures: bright smile, eager eyes looking at the other man in the photograph. Looking back now, Castiel found it disheartening to know that in most photos he was looking at his ex-fiancé, while his ex-fiancé was looking at the camera itself. Setting the photographs back into the box, he touched over a velvet case that encased a golden ring with sapphires settled in the center. He stared at it for a moment and contemplated putting it on, but instead of torturing himself even further, he snapped it shut with finality and closed the shoebox to return it beneath the bed where it belonged. 

Half an hour later and Castiel was rushing out of his apartment, locking the door behind him as he heard the impatient honk of the taxi driver who was waiting outside of his building. He slung his bag over his shoulder and rolled his suitcase behind him, larger travel bag precariously settled on top of it as he made it to the elevator. He was happy that the nervousness he felt about traveling to California for his brother's wedding was enough to stave off his distaste for getting inside the rickety death-trap that was his building's elevator. A few, long moments later, and he was on the sidewalk and shoving his suitcases in the taxi's trunk, slipping into the back seat and watching his building disappear behind him.

* * *

Despite being very aware of when his flight was leaving, Castiel was still early as he sat down at his gate inside of the airport. A tall table right by the window, his headphones and drawing tablet were all Castiel needed to pass the hour or so he had until they started to board. His digital pen worked easily over the smooth surface and he found himself falling into the familiar motions of sketching the characters for a new children's book set to come out in a few months. Animal characters were the easiest and he was lucky to have been paired with an author who was exuberant about anything he sent her way. It was refreshing to have someone who was so _positive_ about his skills, so upbeat about their job. It only served to remind him of how much he loved it, too. 

The illustrations could only do so much to distract him from the reason he was traveling. The back of his mind was constantly buzzing with the knowledge that he was going to be attending Gabriel's wedding, seeing all of his relatives, and his ex-fiancé in less than twenty-four hours. It also felt free to remind him over and over of how he was so pathetic that he couldn't get an _actual_ date to his brother's wedding – oh no! - he had felt the need to _hire_ a man to be his date. The last thing he wanted to do was show up and prove to his entire family that they were right about the assumptions they made in their messages to him, in his mother's regular phone calls, and in the various Christmas and birthday cards that filled his mailbox twice a year. He didn't want them to know that they were right about him allowing himself to be engulfed in his work. He didn't want them to look at him with pitying gazes and sympathy if he showed up to be Gabriel's best man without a date to escort him. 

Taking his seat on the plane, he was happy that he had splurged on first class to give himself enough space and a little bit of luxury to try and get some shut eye. The flight wouldn't be more than around 7 hours, so it would be plenty of time for him to hopefully get a bit of rest so he wouldn't look completely run down when he landed in San Francisco and met the infamous Dean Smith for the first time. 

... okay, so maybe a drink or two would be necessary, but it was all for the sake of getting some semblance of rest before having to face what he hoped wouldn't be a complete train wreck of a week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys! I didn't expect this story to receive the love it has, and I can't thank you enough.  
> Feel free to spread the word, share it if you'd like, and even visit me on Tumblr if you wanna come say hey!  
> I live [here](http://stubborn-beast.tumblr.com/ask) and my ask box is always open.
> 
> xo.

* * *

Castiel was happy that he couldn’t immediately see himself in a mirror as he woke, hearing the announcement that they would be touching down in San Francisco momentarily. The flight had been a smooth one and he’d been right about the drinks. Sitting up, he groaned and felt his spine crack in a few places as he moved. A stiffness had settled over his muscles, but at least he felt a little more rested. It didn’t mean he felt _good_ , of course. He could feel the trail of dried drool crusting at the corner of his lips, the way his mouth was parched and tasted of old liquor. He grimaced as he ran a hand through his hair, feeling the way it matted to one side from where he’d been resting his head by the window near his seat. A quick glance around showed several calm, put-together passengers shifting around with the anticipation of the landing and finally getting off of the airplane after several hours. He understood their excitement, stretching his legs as much as he could beneath the seat in front of him and using a tissue from his bag to try and clear the old drool from his face. 

The plane touched down and Castiel turned his phone off of ‘airplane mode’. A few texts dinged in almost immediately and he scrolled through them to see just how important they truly were. A few weren’t capable of translation: a smashing of those little emoticons that Gabriel seemed so keen on sending him. A face with eyes that were hearts, really? He refrained from rolling his eyes before he clicked on a message from a number he vaguely recognized and his heart quickened in his chest. It was from Dean. 

**Cas, looking forward to meeting you. I’ll be parked in the cell phone lot. Black Chevy Impala, ‘67. You won’t miss her.**

Castiel was surprised to feel a smile growing on his lips. He could appreciate someone who enjoyed classic cars – that had to be the reason. He stood and worked his way out of the plane with the others, avoiding being jostled at all costs simply because he’d rather not have strangers touching him. Who knows what kinds of illnesses the passengers could be transporting? A shudder rolled down his spine as he stepped off of the plane and made his way into the terminal, out of his assigned gate. It wasn’t long before he found himself in front of the baggage claim and was rolling his luggage out to the small tram that would run him to the entrance of the cell phone lot where Dean would be waiting. 

Now... Castiel wasn’t sure what he expected when he first met Dean. 

He’d played the scenario through his head over and over again. Based on the photos on his blog and in published magazines, Dean looked like a put-together man who dressed clean. He wrote articulately and had rave reviews everywhere Castiel had looked. And Castiel had _looked_ before he’d made such an insane decision as to spend most of his savings on a fake date. He supposed it was a real date, but he didn’t need to delve into _that_ argument with himself again. 

He imagined stepping off of the tram and finding a man waiting for him in a suit. He imagined a dazzling smile, maybe even a sign in his hands to welcome one Mr. Novak. Shoes that were shining in the California sun, a car worth drooling over, or at least looked reliable and clean. 

So, sure, Castiel had some expectations... but Dean didn’t fit any of them. Except the dazzling smile; Dean had that in spades. 

The man awaiting Castiel was the definition of calm and confident. He wore a pair of nice jeans lacking stains and holes over a pair of boots that had a few scuffs along the edges. His legs bowed slightly and gave him a bit of a swagger as he approached Castiel with that dazzling smile that lit up his freckled face. He wore a dark green henley on his torso that hugged his muscular shoulders and arms in a fashion that almost caused Cas to blush. _’Get it together, Novak.’_

“You must be Castiel,” Dean said, his voice low and capable of doing something strange to Castiel’s stomach. No, he simply chalked that up to the alcohol. “I’m Dean Smith. Lemme grab that for you.” Cas didn’t even have time to protest as Dean leaned forward and took Castiel’s bags, bringing them around the trunk of his freshly washed car. Struck silent by the kind gesture, Castiel shook his head and ran his hand through his hair before speaking the only words that initially came to mind: 

“Ah, yes. Nice car.” 

A chuckle that was dark like _sin_ rolled from the trunk space of the car. 

“Thank you. She’s my Baby. She’ll get us where we need to go.” 

There was no need for small talk as they moved into the car, Dean opening Castiel’s door for him before shutting it and making his way to the driver’s side. As Dean maneuvered his car out and away from the airport, Castiel quickly realized that he had no reason to worry about conversation. Dean was quite chatty once he pulled the Impala out onto the highway and began to pick up a little bit of speed. 

“So... I’m sure you’ve got some questions for me. Or, you’ve gone over every detail of the agreement so many times that you have it practically memorized.” Dean cast a wink in Cas’s direction before he could even respond, causing him to gape his mouth briefly before shutting it and giving the man a tentative smile. 

“Ah, I may have... looked it over one or two times.” 

The answering chuckle had Castiel smiling a little wider; Dean could obviously see right through him and it was rather invigorating. 

“Well, that’s good. You’re not completely unprepared. Were there any questions that you had? I know it’s quite thorough – you've gotta be, when you’ve been in this game as long as I have.” 

“Have people attempted to take advantage of you?” 

Castiel asked the question with concern in his voice and his eyebrows knit together. Dean laughed himself, but Castiel noticed how his fingers clenched and adjusted on the steering wheel, the way his legs shifted slightly as he changed how he was sitting in his seat. 

“Oh, plenty of times, Cas. I don’t have to be worried about you, though, right?” 

The flirtatious nature of his speech threw Castiel for a loop and drew a bit of a blush up his throat. Before it could go onto his cheeks, he coughed and covered up his embarrassment, leaning back into his seat and watching the San Fransisco landscape pass them by. 

“No, of course not, Dean. I don’t really have any questions... but if I think of some, I’ll be sure to let you know.” 

“Excellent, thanks Cas. I knew you’d be cool. Now... tell me a bit about yourself.” 

The question startled Castiel, but he figured it was pretty standard: Dean would need to know about his past, know about why he hired him and what he was getting himself into. The conversation was plenty between the two of them and made the travel time between San Fransisco and Monterey fly by. 

Castiel explained, again, to Dean about why he was hiring him in the first place: he needed a date to Gabriel’s wedding in order to make his ex-fiancé jealous. He also wanted to save face and keep his family from constantly questioning him about why he was alone at the wedding. He tried his best to explain how they should approach his... eclectic family. Dean reassured him that he had nothing to worry about and guaranteed that he had worked with crazier families than Castiel’s. 

Castiel wasn’t so sure about that. 

“So... you don’t fly? How come?” 

The question was asked as they pulled into a gas station outside of Monterey, Dean’s face pulling slightly before his lips twisted into a true grimace and Castiel could hear his answer from outside of the Impala due to the rolled down windows. 

“Are you kidding me, Cas? Gigantic. Metal. Death. Traps.” 

Castiel laughed at the obvious punctuation to the words and shook his head. His amusement faded as he looked at Dean’s outfit, blinking suddenly as he glanced towards the clock and realized that they would be arriving in Monterey shortly. His family was less than a handful of miles away. 

“What’re you wearing this afternoon?” 

Dean climbed back into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the spot, watching Castiel with a raised eyebrow. 

“I had planned on wearing a pair of grey trousers and a blue, pin-striped button-down with no tie. Or should I go with a tie?” 

Castiel groaned and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “We need to pull over somewhere before we arrive. I’m going to have to change my outfit plans. I planned on blue, too, and I can’t now if that’s what you’re going to wear.” 

“Oh... you don’t want us to appear we’re trying too hard.” 

“Exactly!” Castiel was happy that Dean seemed to understand him, even when most might just assume he was crazy for his picky nature. He certainly hoped that Dean had worse clients than him. 

“I know just the place.” 

Castiel had to question _Dean’s_ judgement as they pulled up to a roadside bar, turning a raised brow to the other man. 

“Haven’t you heard to not judge a book by its cover, Cas? It’s got clean bathrooms you can change in.” 

He was still apprehensive as they hauled one of his smaller suitcases out of the trunk and into the bar. A friendly greeting and wave to the bartender told Cas that Dean was familiar with this place. He eyed Dean skeptically for a moment as the man waved Castiel towards the bathrooms, ushering him down the well-light hallway and seated himself on a bench outside. 

“I’ll wait here in case you need me to help, or give my expert advice.” 

Another teasing wink and Castiel ducked into the bathroom, ignoring the following chuckles in the hallway and allowing the blush to rise fully up his cheeks. Dean was going to be worth every. single. penny.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the overwhelming support of this little story. It's gotten far more attention than I ever anticipated!
> 
> xo.

* * *

The winding drive up to the Shurley estate was as picturesque as Castiel could remember. The groves of trees on either side of the pathed way sported luscious green leaves; he could recall summers he spent up in the branches of those trees, many of which looked much smaller than he remembered. Dean’s car purred around the bend that led to the sprawling house, the vineyard peeking around the outer edges as they grew closer. A low whistle left Dean’s lips and drew a smile to Castiel’s. 

“Yeah. It’s pretty impressive.” 

“It’s gorgeous, Cas. I don’t know how you ever wanted to leave this place.” 

Castiel remained quiet, knowing that Dean had a general idea of why Castiel had hired him in the first place. He knew that Dean understood the background for their transaction, the very reason he was coming along as Castiel’s date to Gabriel’s wedding. Yes, the land was beautiful and the home was immaculate and welcoming, but it was laden with memories that Castiel wasn’t brave enough to face every single day. At one point, he’d considered leaving the country to get as far away from the Shurley estate as possible; logic won out in the end, however, and he decided that the east coast was enough time and distance between himself and the only family he’d ever known. 

“Is it really more beautiful than Oregon?” 

Their time in the car had been passed with idle conversation, small talk about one another’s lives. Dean had insisted on sharing his past in person, not letting Castiel rely solely on his blog and internet reviews as a basis for what made Dean Smith who he was today. Castiel had learned that Dean was from Kansas and had lived in California for a short time before moving up north to Oregon, finding the views up there more fantastic than anywhere else he’d traveled. He had plenty of work along the west coast and didn’t mind driving across the country if the client was willing to pay his travel fees. When asked about flying, Dean had scoffed so hard that Castiel had to check and see if he’d popped a blood vessel in his head. 

A grumble about ‘death traps’ was all he needed to hear to understand why Dean chose to drive instead of fly anywhere, hours on the road be damned. 

“Nothing is more beautiful than Oregon... though Alaska comes in a close second, for me.” 

“You’ve been to Alaska?” 

The surprise in his voice had Dean laughing, giving him a casual wink that caused Castiel to get hot beneath the collar of his lavender button-down. 

“I’ve been a lot of places, Cas.” 

He had to settle for that answer – despite his raging curiosity – as Dean parked his car in one of the many designated spots off to the spot of the circle drive. He kept an ample amount of distance between his vehicle and the familiar white Mercedes that had originally been parked on the end. It took all of Castiel’s focus _not_ to glance at the car, instead choosing to focus on straightening Dean’s collar and giving him a thorough once-over. 

“I know you’ve been with many clients and met many families, but I can guarantee you that none of them have been like mine.” 

Dean looked towards Castiel curiously, as if he wanted to ask and prod, and Castiel was thankful when he simply smiled and cocked a brow in his direction. 

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” 

The walk up to the large doors was quiet with the exception of the crunching of stone beneath their polished shoes. As they were opened, the couple was immediately greeted by various sounds of chatter and the clinking of glasses. There were many people gathered around, visible from the hall to the sprawling main room, a wall of glass windows visible and giving view to the beautiful vineyard beyond. Castiel immediately stepped close to Dean, putting his arm through the other man’s and trying not to marvel at the strength he obviously felt there as he focused instead on forcing his smile. 

“ _Castiel!_ ” 

A shrill voice called his name and drew his attention, as well as Dean’s, while he gripped tighter along the other man’s arm. An older woman with a mostly-emptied martini glass approached them with a loose smile on her lips. The forced politeness on Castiel’s face slipped and softened as he withdrew from Dean’s arm to receive his mother’s embrace. 

“Mother, it’s good to see you.” 

“And you! It’s been _so_ long, everyone has been dying for your arrival. Not the main focus for the gathering, of course, but everyone has been insisting that it _should_ have been.” 

Castiel felt the color pull from the edges of his face just slightly, locking his smile into place before stepping away from his mother and putting his hand on Dean’s closest arm. 

“Mother, this is Dean. Dean, this is my mother, Naomi Novak.” 

Naomi focused on Dean as if just realizing that he was standing behind Castiel, surveying the interaction with curiosity on his features. As if on cue, Dean put on a charming smile and shook Naomi’s free hand. 

“The pleasure is mine, ma’am.” 

“Please, call me Naomi, none of this ‘ma’am’ business. I like your accent, and your clothes. Enough of the chit-chat, though! You planned to get here with no time to adjust to the difference, Castiel, and we have _things_ to _do!_ First -” 

Castiel shot Dean a look of apology and ‘save me’ over his shoulder as Naomi grasped onto Castiel’s hand and began to tug him through the line of guests gathered around them. It wasn’t lost on Castiel to see many of them turning their heads, catching a glimpse of the eldest son that many hadn’t seen in years. He steadfastly ignored them and tried to keep up with his mother’s chattering as she went through the itinerary of what he should expect to be involved in for this wedding. Dean followed closely behind, but at a distance that suggested he wasn’t hovering over Castiel or eavesdropping on the plans, merely following as Naomi led her son to the busy bar on the left side of the main room. 

“Now, you stay here, Castiel while I go -” 

“Yes, Mother.” 

Naomi was already off without another word directly spoken to Castiel, being pulled this way and that way by various guests with questions and family members. Looking over his shoulder, he was happy to spot that Dean was right behind him, only a few steps away, and gave him an encouraging smile. As Castiel turned around, he was surprised to see a familiar man standing near with a wide grin and his arms open. 

“Dad,” Castiel spoke with relief, his smile sincerer than it had been since their arrival at the sight of his father. 

“Cas,” the other man said, grabbing him into a firm hug before stepping back and getting a good look over him. “It’s so good to see you. And who might this man be?” 

“Dean Smith,” Dean introduced before Castiel could, stepping up beside him and offering his hand to shake. 

“Nice to meet you, Dean. I’m Charles Shurley, but call me Chuck.” 

“It’s a pleasure, Chuck. You’ve got a beautiful estate here.” 

“It’s even more beautiful when it’s not full of people,” Chuck responded back easily, practically glaring at the gathered family, causing both Castiel and Dean to laugh with surprise. Castiel had missed his father and considered it one of the perks of finally getting to come back to California. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to find where my wife has wandered off to and make sure she hasn’t fallen asleep on a bench or gotten another martini in her hand,” Chuck said with a pat of his hand against Dean’s shoulder before stepping past them. Castiel turned to find Dean standing there with a short glass in his hand that had a lime garnish on the side. 

“I know your family specializes in wine, but I figured you could use something stronger.” 

“You might as well get something, too,” Castiel responded, taking the drink with a sigh of thanks and taking a sip. Dean chuckled and turned to the bartender, getting a glass of beer in return. He brought it up to a small cheers to Castiel before leaning in and whispering encouragement into his ear. 

“You’re doing great,” he murmured, causing Castiel to take a deeper gulp of his gin and tonic before he heard a familiar voice calling his name yet again. 

“Cassie! Cassie, that’s you, right?! Cassie, who is the absolute _hunk_ you brought with you?!” 

Castiel plastered a smile on his face and turned to see Gabriel approaching him, wrapping him in a hug almost too quickly for Castiel to return it. He also kept talking, in typical Gabriel fashion. 

“He’s handsome! You have a name, handsome?” 

“Dean, my name’s Dean.” 

“Ah, Dean-o! A nice, strong man for my brother here, hmm? You choose ‘em good, Cassie!” 

Castiel was fired up with a retort to his brother, stepping a shade closer to Dean as he heard the sound of a microphone being tapped on. He gripped his glass tightly and his eyes widened as he saw his mother standing up on a small stage, holding exactly that in her free hand while the other carefully avoided spilling her full martini glass. 

“Is this... is it on? It’s on? Oh, excellent!” 

“Who allowed this to happen?” Castiel whispered frantically, gulping down a bit more of his gin and tonic, shooting Dean a glare at the chuckle the other man afforded as he placed a hand against Castiel’s back. 

“Welcome, everyone, to the estate! It’s good to have everyone back here, family and friends! Thank you all for coming to show support for our Gabe’s wedding to the love of his life, Sam!” 

Claps went around the room as everyone turned to gaze at the towering man who was now standing behind Gabriel, giving everyone a great smile and wave as his other hand squeezed Gabriel’s shoulder affectionately. 

“I know that we all believed we maybe would have been here for a _different_ wedding -” 

Castiel’s heart dropped into his stomach. 

“- it just, apparently, hadn’t been in the cards for our eldest Castiel. But... but at least he could be here to celebrate his brother’s wedding!” 

An awkward pause filled the space, mingled with murmurs amongst the guests as Castiel felt his face heat with embarrassment. He could sense the eyes on him, his relatives and friends of relatives all turning their pity and sympathy his way. He knew if he squeezed any harder on his glass, he’d shatter it. The tense moment was only broken by the sound of piano keys as someone dragged their hand along the length of them, drawing all of the attention away from Castiel towards the grand piano set up on the other side of the room. 

There stood Dean, like a true knight in shining armor, causing others to laugh as someone managed to wrestle the microphone away from Naomi. 

With the attention taken from him, Castiel set his glass down and walked swiftly out of the main room towards the bathrooms, desperate for some time to himself so he could gather his wits. He would need to if he ever hoped to survive the rest of this wedding surrounded by his family.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to keep up with this little tale!   
> I was not expecting it to gain so much popularity. I appreciate it more than I could ever say.
> 
> xo.

* * *

Castiel was thankful that no one else was in the bathroom. 

No one else saw him standing there, trying to reign himself in, splashing a bit of water onto a towel and patting it along his neck and collar. He ran his hands through his hair – it's not as though it was salvageable to begin with – and let out many sighs and noises of frustration that would have been otherwise embarrassing in public. _That_ display Naomi had put on was one of the main reasons he didn’t come to California, he didn’t see his family without years between instances. It was one of the original pushes that forced him out of state, that solidified his desires to move to the opposite coast and put as much distance between his family and himself as possible without leaving the country. Those unbearable moments of cringe-worthy embarrassment were aspects of his life that he certainly hadn’t missed. He wasn’t ignorant enough to assume it wouldn’t happen when he’d decided to come to Gabriel’s wedding, but he figured that there would have been some small blessing involved that might have kept the situation from happening within the first _hour_ he was there. 

“No. Of course not, that’d be too much to ask, wouldn’t it?” 

He spoke aloud to no one, swallowing his words as he heard the bathroom door open. Some vaguely familiar figure walked right past and into a stall, prompting Castiel to wash his hands and dry them. The moment of sanctuary was broken; time to make his way back out into the fray. Looking at himself in the mirror, Castiel gave a firm nod and perfunctory grimace of what he hoped would be confidence. It fell short, but at least the effort was given. Sighing softly, he finished ringing his hands dry on the towel and pushed open the bathroom door, rounding the corner out of the alcove - 

only to run right into someone else making their way towards the bathroom. 

“Oh I’m sorry -” 

“ - pardon me -” 

Their words mashed together after the initial impact, but as Castiel lifted his gaze he was stunned into just as much silence as the man standing before him. His blue eyes glanced into the familiar crystalline gaze of his ex-fiancé, who at least had the decency to seem embarrassed. The panicked feeling that rose in Castiel was expected, as was the urge to pull himself closer to the man that had always enraptured him, even when he was younger. Heartbreak be damned, there was something about him that he simply couldn’t resist. 

Well... he managed, at least, to not embarrass himself further by keeping his distance. 

“Balthazar.” 

“Cassie... ah, it’s good to see you. You, you look good.” 

“Thank you.” 

Castiel managed to not return the compliment, knowing that it would dredge up too many painful memories for him, just like looking into Balthazar’s face seemed to do. It was hard not to look at him and see the man Castiel had been so madly in love with. It was hard not to look at him and feel the pain of their sudden breakup all over again. He figured the distance and years apart would have healed _some_ of him, but maybe he wasn’t as ready for this as he originally believed. 

_“Castiel James!”_

A whirl of red hair caught his attention – and thankfully broke the tension – as a smaller figure ran up and grabbed onto Castiel’s hand, beginning to already tug him away. 

“How dare you show up after all of these years and practically disappear? Oh – hello, asshole.” 

Charlie had finally noticed Balthazar and turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow and standing as defiantly as ever. Her voice was stale and hard as she addressed him, speaking so rapidly that Balthazar could barely open his mouth to get a word in edgewise – something that Castiel was actually pretty grateful for. 

“You wouldn’t mind if I stole Castiel from your attention, would you? Especially after you kept him to yourself for so long only to dump him brutally and without cause? No, excellent, thanks.” 

There truly was no room for argument as Charlie tugged Castiel away from Balthazar, leaving the man standing flustered in the wake. Castiel squeezed Charlie’s hand as a way of thanks, grinning as the redhead cocked a smile over her shoulder and began to tug him back into the main room filled with people. 

“I still can’t believe you had the audacity not to try and find me immediately.” 

“Sorry, Charlie. I got bombarded with literally everyone else -” 

“I guess I’ll forgive you, especially after what your _Mom_ said over the mic.” 

“Ugh, please do not remind of that. Ever. I need it gone and buried away, thanks.” 

“I’ll do my best with that damage control.” 

“You’re the best, Charlie.” 

During their conversation, they’d made their way back to the bar and gotten a much-needed drink back into their hands. Castiel took a few gulps of his as Charlie whipped around to say something – probably along the lines of how she’s very aware that she’s the best – but she stops in her tracks with her wide eyes gazing past Castiel’s shoulder. 

“Who. The hell. Is that?” 

Castiel turned his body to stand beside hers, sipping his drink again and looking ahead. There, surrounded by some of Castiel’s cousins and aunts, was Dean. He was flashing his charming smile and earning twittering laughter from all of the women. He glanced up just briefly to catch Castiel’s gaze and gave him a wink, drawing a blush up his throat and to his cheeks. 

“Did he just _wink_ at you?! Castiel!” 

Charlie would have been shrieking if she hadn’t forced herself into a whisper, her eyes flicking back up towards Castiel. The man nodded, and his voice lowered to her level as well. 

“That’s my date.” 

“ _Your date?!_ ” 

It was a rare moment when Charlie was shocked into silence, but he was graced with the experience very briefly before she spoke again and brought Castiel to laughter. 

“Holy hell. I’d totally switch teams if it meant I was tapping _that_ all the time. What’d you say he did?” 

Castiel didn’t feel it was necessary to point out that he never said what Dean’s job was, finding it was a rather moot point altogether. Charlie looked at him expectantly, sipping her drink idly as she did. 

“He’s a therapist.” 

“I’m sure people are _dying_ to open up to him.” 

Again, they both fell into a bit of laughter before finding the moment interrupted by a towering presence approaching the bar beside them. 

“And what’s so funny over here?” 

Castiel twisted and looked up towards the familiar figure of Sam Winchester, an adoring and interested smile on his face as he looked towards Castiel and Charlie expectantly. 

Sam hadn’t changed much over the years. He was still absolutely massive, still had intelligent and gentle hazel eyes, and was positively too good for Gabriel. The two were disgustingly in love, and the peaceful moment of being just around _Sam_ \- a rare thing, indeed – was shattered just as quickly as it had begun as Gabriel snuck up beside him and reached a hand back to squeeze at his ass. It brought Sam to jump; he hadn’t noticed Gabriel there, evidently. In response, Sam grinned down towards Gabe and tugged him up into a kiss, one that made Castiel as equally happy as he was disgusted. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Castiel murmured as Charlie rolled her eyes, making a gagging noise before sipping at her drink once more. 

“Can’t wait for them to get hitched finally,” Charlie mumbled, loud enough for the two to hear if they were actually listening. “Then the novelty would wear off and we wouldn’t be subjected to this torture.”

* * *

Escaping Castiel’s family was difficult, but Dean managed to do so. His empty beer glass in hand, he found his way onto a small balcony that overlooked the vast vineyard on the back of the property. He let out a sigh, but quickly recovered the moment he realized he wasn’t the only one trying to escape the thralls of people. Straightening up slightly, he walked towards a wooden pillar and leaned against it, glancing down at the unfamiliar man who was slouched forward on the railing with a half-full glass in his grip. 

“It’s a bit overwhelming in there.” 

Dean sparked the conversation easily, sensing the distance in the other man and the tension he seemed to hold in his shoulders. He gave a rueful smile as the other turned to face him slightly, the answering smile in return only half-genuine – mostly forced. 

“Yeah, quite tough to get used to the lot of them.” 

The accent threw Dean for a loop. No one else he’d talked to had a British accent; who was this guy? 

“Don’t recognize you, though. You know the groom? Err... well, I s’pose the one you’d assume is the ‘groom’?” 

The joke fell incredibly flat and Dean had to tamp down the urge to correct this man on his assumptions when it comes to the stereotypes of homosexual relationships. He couldn’t control his cocked brow, however, and he was about to speak when another presence joined them on the small balcony. He turned to see Castiel, a smile on the man’s face as he sidled up to Dean and slid his arm into place around his waist. 

“I was looking for you, Dean,” he said, his voice matching his smile, but Dean could see trouble in his eyes. Dean fell into an easy smile as he straightened and kept up the charade, holding Castiel close. 

“Apologies, I only meant to step out for a moment.” 

Castiel smiled towards Dean before he turned his gaze, as if to just become aware of the other man standing near them. Dean could tell that Castiel had _been_ aware from the moment he’d joined them, though. It was written all over the tenseness of his shoulders and how he held himself. 

“I see you’ve met Balthazar,” Castiel said, and Dean suddenly understood. The ex. 

“Yes, just briefly.” 

“Well... let’s get you a drink refill and rejoin the party.” 

Castiel gave Balthazar a brief nod and smile before leading Dean away. Dean didn’t give Balthazar a second glance; he wasn’t hired to impress the ex-fiancé, after all. He left that all to the man on his arm.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, everyone! It's been a little hectic over here, and this scene was hard to write, but I hope it's worth the wait.
> 
> xo.

* * *

Driving through the streets of a suburb outside of Monterey was just as picturesque as the estate itself had been. The neighborhood was quiet, the houses nicely packed with the perfect amount of distance between each one. They weren’t cookie-cutter, by any means, and there was just enough personality to each one for them all to be different without clashing with one another. Each of the houses on the winding, uphill street was incredibly familiar to Castiel, even after all of these years. But one of the last houses on the street, right where the road turned to a ‘t’ and split off on either side, was the most familiar. It was a large, colonial house painted with neutral colors and set back from the road enough for a few cars to fit in the driveway. It was a good thing, too, since a practical caravan had followed the leading vehicle all the way into the neighborhood. The home was large and spacious, Castiel remembered that much, but he knew that all of the rooms were going to be filled with all of the extra bodies staying inside because of the festivities. 

Chuck and Naomi had _insisted_ that Castiel and his date stay at the house with them. They had been reassured that while Gabriel would also be staying there, Sam would not and they wouldn’t all be subjected to the grooms public displays of affection. Castiel was quite thankful for that, at least. He wasn’t the most thrilled to hear that his cousin Michael – a rather uptight, military man – would also be joining them in the house, and his other cousin Alfie. He wasn’t so opposed to the latter, though, especially since Alfie wasn’t an imposing presence. 

Castiel and Dean climbed from his car and grabbed their bags from the trunk. As they walked up the driveway, they were greeted by Chuck holding the front door open and Naomi ushering them inside. The entrance was spacious enough that they all didn’t feel crowded, even with the solid wooden staircase that adorned the right side and led up to the second level of the home. Naomi motioned for them to follow her up the stairs, and it was at that time that Castiel started to speak. 

“So, I’m going to be staying in my old room... and I believe that the spare room next to Michael’s is open, right, Mother? You see, she has a rule of unmarried couples not being allowed to -” 

“Now, you stop that,” Naomi interrupted and scolded, causing Castiel to stop in his tracks and turn his wide eyes towards his mother. Chuck had followed them up and they all stood gathered on the landing, bags in hand. 

“Don’t let Castiel convince you that we’re as old-timey as he likes to suggest. Of course you can stay in his room, Dean. Besides – all of the other rooms are full. We anticipated that your date would stay with you,” she said, speaking at first to Dean and then back to Castiel, a smile on her lips as she shot them a wink that only proceeded to make Castiel more uncomfortable. He hadn’t planned for Dean to be staying in his room. He hadn’t planned on Dean ever even _seeing_ his childhood bedroom. 

“Come on, then. Let’s get you both settled before we have to convene for an interesting dinner,” Chuck commented, hearing a scoff from Naomi and choosing to ignore it as the woman puttered down the hallway, calling after Michael. Castiel groaned at the mere thought of the house’s occupants all clamoring around the same dining table, but Dean was chuckling behind him without a care in the world. 

Castiel didn’t stop himself from glaring at Dean over his shoulder as they moved into the last bedroom on the right side of the hallway, Chuck opening the door for them since their hands were full and revealing Castiel’s childhood bedroom to two curious sets of eyes. 

It looked just as Castiel remembered it from the last time he’d stayed there. It had been dusted recently – thank God – and there appeared to at least be new sheets on the bed. His wardrobe was closed, the dark wood contrasting with the light blue wallpaper adorned with delicately designed feathers of white scattered about. The comforter and sheets were a darker blue, almost grey in color, and Castiel couldn’t stop his blush when he saw that his old stuffed animal was seated right on top of his pillows at the head of his bed. 

Rushing inside, he set his bags down atop the bed and grabbed the black, worn-out cat, holding it briefly in his hands before reaching up to place it atop one of the floating shelves above his bed. 

“It’s a nice room, Cas,” Dean spoke behind him, his tone gentle but not without a slight teasing edge to it. Castiel turned on the spot and saw that Dean was glancing out of the large, singular window that faced out over the back yard. It was positioned across from Castiel’s bed and cast wonderful, natural light through the entire room. Rolling his eyes, Castiel managed a grunt before he started to dig through his bags, looking for a change of clothes that he could put on for dinner that would allow him to get out of the dress pants and button-down he’d put on before they’d made it to the estate. 

“The bathroom is that door, over there.” 

“Oh, an en suite? I like that,” Dean commented with a smile, dropping his own bags onto a small bench at the foot of the bed that contained three drawers and was topped with folded up blankets. “I’d like to freshen up before dinner, if that’s alright?” 

“Yes, of course. There’s towels on the right side of the wardrobe over there,” Castiel responded with a nod towards the large piece of furniture offset in a corner on the other side of the room. Dean bobbed his head in thanks and moved towards it, opening the doors and letting out a chuckle as he turned towards Castiel, who lifted his head and raised a brow in response. 

“Neil Diamond, Cas? Really?” 

Heat flared into Castiel’s cheeks and he ducked his head as Dean continued to chuckle about the poster on the inside of the wardrobe door. He had grabbed a towel and a small bag of supplies before heading into the bathroom and closing the door to a crack behind him. Castiel began to grumble to himself as he moved around his room, becoming reacquainted with it and closing the door to his wardrobe after snatching another spare towel from it for himself. 

“Neil Diamond is a treasure. He has many hits and everyone knows who he is... it’s not weird to like him...” 

The rest of his grumblings were unintelligible as he moved around his room, pausing as he heard Dean singing _Sweet Caroline_ and trying not to think of how good the lyrics sounded on Dean’s drawling tone. Castiel found himself only stopping when he heard Dean’s voice from the bathroom. 

“Hey, Cas? I forgot my small toiletry bag, would you grab it and bring it here for me?” 

Without thinking too much about how he’d be close to a naked Dean, he grabbed the small bag and brought it to the bathroom. It was painfully neutral with a small window positioned in the shower, a white curtain matching the white walls. He looked up as Dean popped his head out of the shower and then his arm, grinning crookedly while taking the bag from Cas’s hand. 

“Thanks, man.” 

He disappeared behind the curtain and Castiel found himself pausing, sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet and bringing out his phone. He began to scroll to a familiar blog and article, questions forming in his mind as he chewed on his bottom lip. 

“So what made you decide -” 

“ - Jesus, Cas, you need a bell or something -” 

“My apologies. What made you decide to do this job, exactly? There’s been a lot of speculation online, but you’ve never answered any of the rumors.” 

He could hear Dean’s chuckle echoing in the shower. 

“Because they’re just rumors, Cas. The truth isn’t going to be anywhere on the internet, no matter how hard you scour it.” 

Castiel, at least, had the decency to blush and look up from his phone to see the shadow of Dean’s body moving behind the curtain. 

“The truth is that my parents were both swingers. They used to bring their partners home to our little two-bedroom house and had a huge problem with locking doors. As I got older, I needed to figure out the reason behind certain needs for sexual gratification and intimacy in my own way after spending so much time not understanding why my parents were so different from everyone else’s, and why I couldn’t talk out loud about how mom and dad shared boyfriends and girlfriends while staying married.” 

“Oh...” Castiel trailed off, pity blossoming in his chest as he stared towards the curtain. “Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry -” 

Dean’s head popped out from behind the curtain with a shit-eating grin plastered on his lips. “I’m just fucking with you, Cas.” 

“You asshole!” 

Castiel threw a wash-cloth at Dean from behind the toilet where he said and Dean was chuckling all the while, catching it and snagging the cloth into the shower with him. 

“Well... I have another question. In this article, it states that you said: ‘Everyone has the exact love life they want.’ Do you honestly believe that? You believe that people out there, like me, _want_ to be miserably single because their heart was shattered... out of nowhere by someone else?” 

“You gonna analyze every single thing I’ve ever said, Cas?” 

The silence had Dean snorting in the shower. 

“You’ve already done it, haven’t you?” 

Castiel didn’t have the heart to answer. 

“First of all, Cas, there’s no such thing as ‘out of nowhere’, alright? And second of all, yeah.” 

“ _What_?” 

Castiel’s head snapped up with disbelief, his eyes wide as Dean turned off the water of the shower and pulled the curtain open at the same time – revealing his entire, dripping wet, naked body. Some kind of unearthly sound pulled from Castiel as his face heated up, his head turning away immediately to give Dean some semblance of privacy to make up for the shame he seemed to be completely lacking. He could hear Dean stepping from the shower and grabbing the towel, drying himself off. Castiel turned his head to take a peek, only to find that his eye-level was at the perfect level of _something_ else. He absolutely did not squeak as he turned away further, twisting his body on the toilet lid to keep himself away from the temptation of seeing _that_ again. 

“You heard me. When you’re ready to let go of Balthazar, to be un-miserably single and over him, you will. Until then... well.” 

Dean shrugged his shoulders and nonchalantly walked past Castiel and out into the bedroom, causing Castiel’s eyes to follow him out with a look of disbelief plastered onto his face. 

“If it soothes your soul, Cas, Balthazar sounded... tormented when I talked to him before.” 

“Oh... he did?” 

“Yeah.” 

Dean watched as Castiel stood from the toilet seat, a speculative look on his face as he stepped further into the bathroom and slowly closed the door between them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is still here! I hope that this chapter makes up for my absence during the busy month of October.
> 
> xo.

* * *

_“In order to get back at Balth, we’ll have to make him realize what he’s really missing.”_

Dean’s words played over and over again in Castiel’s head as everyone mingled around the field. The California sun was incredibly warm that day and everyone had dressed accordingly... though Castiel figured he had been laying it on a little thick, adorning himself in a dark t-shirt that clung to his torso and shorts that rested at least an inch above his knees. Dean had helped him choose the clothes, talking about ‘being a looker’ or something like that. Despite feeling initially uncomfortable, there was something about it that made Castiel feel quite powerful and confident. He had glanced at himself in the mirror before he’d slipped out of his room after Dean and, well, he _knew_ he looked good. He only hoped that Balthazar would feel the same way. 

Everyone who was staying in the house had gathered outside for a traditional game set to keep the mood light and encourage some ‘bonding’ between family members before the big day. Castiel had never understood why their gatherings were so elaborate, but he supposed he also never asked. In fact, he figured that it would be a little intimidating to Dean, but the man was the ever-golden professional. He had been right on board – even _understanding_ \- of the need for tradition, earning quite the approval from Michael and Chuck during the pre-game conversation in the kitchen. 

“This is going to be great,” Gabriel squealed, unable to help himself as he tugged his fiancé out of the kitchen and into the backyard, where the game was already set up in its usual spot: an open, uneven space that was free of any growth other than the grass beneath their feet. Michael carried a pack of tennis balls with him while Charlie held a few large, white plastic pieces cut in a circular shape beneath her arm as they made the trek away from the house. 

“Do you really play baseball with tennis balls?” 

Dean made the comment softly, with a bit of amused disbelief as he glanced towards Castiel on their walk behind the others. Turning blue eyes to him, Castiel caught himself staring at Dean’s attire – a plain black shirt and loose athletic shorts – before shaking his head and focusing on what Dean had asked him. A smile curved onto his lips before he shook his head, speaking softly as they approached the sidelines where the rest of the group stood while Michael and Charlie set about preparing the makeshift field for their game. 

“Not exactly... we don’t play baseball -” 

“ - holy shit. Your ‘traditional’ bonding game is _pickle?!_ ” 

Dean’s laughter was infectious and had Castiel laughing as well, unable to stop the fluttering feeling within his chest and stomach. It took a lot of his will to not stop and reflect on how he couldn’t recall the last time he’d laughed so freely. 

“It was Dad’s idea to do something a little... ah, unique.” 

“And fun, of course!” 

Gabriel interrupted them with a grin, setting down a bucket he’d been carrying that had ice and an assortment of bottled waters and beers inside of it. Samuel walked up behind him with an approving nod, continuing the conversation as Balthazar walked past the group and moved to help Michael. 

Castiel subconsciously stepped closer to Dean, wanting to be sure that Balthazar saw their close proximity every chance he got. 

“It’s something we’ve always done, ever since we were argumentative children. The Shurley and Novak cousins would come to stay here in the summers when they were younger, gather friends, and try to decide on a game to play back here that didn’t result in injury.” 

“ - there was a lot of trial and error -” Gabriel interjected, beaming up at his future husband, before Chuck picked up the conversation with laughter in his voice as he approached behind them. A hat sat upon his head to block the sun and he had a clipboard in his hands, forever the score-keeper and referee for the competitive bunch. 

“ - so I decided, after a few trips to the hospital and some unhappy phone calls to siblings, that we would play something a bit more fun and untraditional. That is, until it became our tradition, I suppose.” 

“You also really love _The Sandlot_ ,” Michael commented as he moved back into their general space, his tone and presence letting everyone know that they were ready to begin. Castiel glanced towards Dean, momentarily worried that the man would be overwhelmed or even think their tradition was silly. He quickly realized that he shouldn’t have bothered worrying, not if the sprawling grin lighting up Dean’s features had anything to say about it. 

“Alright! Let’s play!”

* * *

The game started without much of a hitch. While they would normally only have two throwers, the added number of people in the game prompted a change of rules and a third was pulled in. Michael, Balthazar, and Samandriel were the designated throwers, while the rest of the group were the runners. Castiel felt it pertinent to warn Dean that, while Samandriel – or Alfie, as they called him – was quite small, that he shouldn’t underestimate his throwing abilities and uncanny aim. It was something they all had realized far too late when they were younger, and that little bit of advice proved useful as the game began. 

It was hard beneath the heat of the sun, but the condition of the day only added to the sport itself. Castiel could soon feel sweat pooling against his back and see it on the foreheads of almost every player. Even Charlie had yanked her hair back away from her face, brushing the sweat from her hands as she reached a base safely. He flicked his gaze over towards Balthazar, who had been watching him and looked away hastily, as if he’d been caught with his hand in the candy jar. Smiling to himself, Castiel glanced towards Dean and caught the man winking his way. Oh, yes, this was going to work out nicely. 

It didn’t take long before the competitive nature of their family to reveal itself, drawing out Dean’s similar side as their mocks and jeers were paired with laughter and bouts of cursed shouting. Castiel managed to make it around their placed bases to score a point, and he almost missed the opportunity that Dean had presented in the moment of excitement. His date had opened his arms for an embrace, a grin splitting his lips, and Castiel made sure to run right into his arms. Dean, as surprisingly strong as ever, yanked Castiel clean off of the ground and spun him in a circle, shouting about their score and being in the lead. 

Peering over his shoulder just in time, Castiel noticed the way Balthazar was staring at them, how his knuckles were white over the grip of the tennis ball. _Oh._ That was right; it wasn’t just the game they were playing in the yard, but also the opportunity to rub their ‘relationship’ in Balth’s face. Right. Castiel totally remembered that. Thinking quickly and playing off of his ex’s jealousy, Castiel leaned in to kiss Dean’s cheek and whisper in his ear simultaneously: “Let him tag you. Lose the game.” 

Giving Balth that little victory would certainly make him feel like the better man, and might help him gain some perspective into what he lost... especially when Castiel shoots him those vulnerable eyes, eyes that would admire his abilities to tag out his current love interest - 

Dean, apparently, had other plans. 

Castiel felt his jaw drop as Dean expertly maneuvered his way with his bowed legs, dodging the throwers and coming around to the final base with his hands thrown in the air, earning their team the winning point. Castiel jogged up to him and accepted a kiss to his cheek, confusion on his face for a moment before Dean pointedly glanced towards Balthazar. Castiel peeked over at his ex and saw the man throwing the tennis ball harshly against the ground, his hands shoved to his hips as he glared daggers at Dean’s back. Seeing the jealousy clearly raging on Balthazar’s face, Castiel kept up his smile and tugged Dean close before pulling him towards the bucket of waters so they could get drinks. 

“Good game, everyone!” 

It was Chuck who greeted them, a beer in his own hand as he waved his clipboard and showed off the score. There were cheers and groans, but everyone was in generally high spirits. Castiel chugged down his water, letting some slip from the corners of his lips without much care. He enjoyed the way it cooled his skin and soaked into his shirt. Lowering his gaze from the sky, he glanced forward just in time to see Balthazar looking away again, wiping his forehead on his arm and drinking his own beer. The sight made Castiel’s heart race and a smile form on his face. 

He was so focused on his ex, however, that he missed the sight of green eyes on him, watching from a few feet away. 

“Cassie’s always been a looker, huh? I mean, I don’t get it, but I’m seeing that you clearly do.” 

The words left Charlie’s lips almost conspiratorially as she chugged water and winked towards Dean. Charlie had quickly earned Dean’s friendship with just a couple of brief conversations, something the man had never anticipated happening during his time with Castiel. A flush colored Dean’s cheeks for a brief moment, but he chalked it up to the heat, not to being caught staring at the man he was supposed to have _no_ real feelings towards whatsoever. It was his heart that spoke for him, however, not his logical mind. 

“Yeah... yeah, I do.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter, lovelies! And to those of you who are celebrating in a couple of days - Happy Thanksgiving!
> 
> xo.

* * *

“Clearly, Gabriel hates me.” 

The laughter from the other side of the room had Castiel’s head lifted with a glare directed at the other man. The other man who was dressed smartly in a pair of dress pants and button-down shirt, not something as _ridiculous_ as the clothes he had to wear for Gabriel. 

“Come on, Cas, you don’t look that bad.” 

Dean seemed to possess some kind of sincerity to his words while Castiel tugged at the collar around his neck and adjusted the sweater draped around his shoulders. His polo was smartly tucked in to khaki shorts, the dark blue of the shirt only broken up by tiny white anchors patterned across the material. A scowl formed on Castiel’s lips as he slipped on a pair of boating shoes without socks, grimacing at the sensation and glaring towards Dean once more as the man muffled a chuckle behind the back of his hand. 

“Why... why’re you dressed that way, anyhow?” 

“Gabriel decided on a _nautical_ theme for his bachelor party.” 

“That makes sense.” 

Castiel’s apparent distaste for the attire caused both men to remain fairly silent as they made their way out of the house and into the car. Dean was going to be dropping Castiel off at the first bar – Gabriel insisted on celebrating in a ‘crawl’ across a handful of bars and pubs nearby – before heading off to Sam’s bachelor party across town. 

“So Dean... what’re some of your favorite jobs you’ve done?” 

“I don’t necessarily have favorites,” he mused as he slowly pulled away from the house and got the Impala on the road. “Though it’s always an interesting experience to be called in for a funeral.” 

“A funeral?” 

Castiel seemed startled and apparently, it was amusing enough for the other man because he didn’t hide his laughter. The more the idea dawned on Castiel, the more mortified he became. 

“I can’t imagine... hiring someone to... go to a funeral...? Really?” 

“It happens more often than you’d think. People don’t want to deal with that kind of situation alone, want the comfort of someone with them, even if it is a stranger. Though, I’ve had one or two that have hired me to spite other family members,” he commented, as if it was more of an after-thought. Castiel mulled over the thought and nodded briefly, as if he understood, though it was still a rather terrifying thought. Considering his hesitation to call on Dean for his brother’s wedding, he couldn’t imagine what anxieties would formulate if he had the idea to hire someone for a funeral service. 

“I do get the occasional birthday, which is fun. I’ve also been called and told over the phone that I was hired to teach someone’s son how to properly date women.” 

Both men had a laugh at that, unable to help themselves. The Impala was a smooth ride over the country roads and both men found themselves filling the cabin with idle chatter as they made their way further into the closest city. As they neared the location where Dean would drop Castiel off, their conversation had turned to more intimate topics. Castiel had attempted to change the topic a couple of times already, but Dean had seemed convinced that making Castiel uncomfortable was one of the more entertaining things in life, apparently. 

“I do get requested for _those_ sorts of things.” 

“Often?” 

“Often enough. Some just assume it’s part of the package, the charm.” 

“Charm? Are you often described as charming?” 

“Oh, Cas, you wound me.” 

Both men were chuckling, Castiel quieter than Dean, as they emerged onto the sidewalk outside of the bar. Already the rambunctious noises of those who had arrived for the bachelor party could be heard muffled through the cracked windows and partially opened doors. 

“I couldn’t imagine... I’d be far too...” 

“Nervous? Almost everyone’s nervous when they first call me, Cas.” 

“Oh really? And how do you get them to not be?” 

Castiel, who had been busy tugging at the sweater around his shoulders, lifted his gaze to find Dean much closer than he had originally believed him to be. He took an instinctive step back, only to find his back pressed against Dean’s car, and Dean stepping forward to meet him there. 

“It’s easy, Cas,” Dean murmured, his voice lowered and going straight to Castiel’s gut in a way that the man wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Bright blue eyes stared towards green ones nervously, and Dean gave him a soft, confident smile. “Just relax and listen to me.” 

“How am I supposed -?” 

“ _Listen,_ ” Dean interrupted, and Castiel closed his mouth as Dean inched closer. He raised a hand and rough skin touched against Castiel’s cheek, cupping his jaw softly. The rest of Dean’s body was close – tantalizingly close – but wasn’t touching him. It was enough to drive his heart wild in his chest but also... also, it soothed him in a way that he didn’t quite understand. 

“Just relax, okay? You’re handsome as hell and you’re going to have an amazing time tonight. Don’t let Balthazar ruin your mental state. You’re confident. You deserve to relax and do what you want, to celebrate with your brother. Any man or woman would be lucky to have you. Just think about how much he’s missing out on by not being with you and how _free_ you are tonight... let that confidence guide you, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.” 

Dean’s voice was smooth and deep, a slight twang along the edges of his tone singing right down to Castiel’s toes. He wasn’t sure when his eyes had closed – maybe when Dean had started stroking his cheek with his thumb? - but they flickered open when the man stopped speaking and Castiel felt himself exhale a shaky breath. 

“Holy shit, you’re worth every penny.” 

The words came out without much thought or consideration. A brief flicker of _something_ passed over Dean’s gaze, but was gone in an instant as the other man chuckled and stepped away from him. “Go inside and have fun, Castiel. I’ll see you later,” Dean commented smoothly, watching as the other man righted himself and brushed his sweaty palms over the front of his khaki shorts. Swallowing with an audible click, Castiel nodded in response before heading into the bustling, noisy bar. His mind was still fogged up, trying to clear from the spell Dean had put him under, and he briefly wondered if he had missed something in what Dean was saying to him... why he had looked at him that way... 

“ _Cassie!_ ” 

It all faded as Castiel looked up, seeing the familiar faces of many people at the bar. Judging by the emptied shot glasses, they’d already been around for a while. Gabriel’s face burst through the crowd and he beamed as he rushed forward, grabbing a hold of Castiel’s arm and tugging him into the group. 

“You look great, Cassie! But you’re late and we’re ahead of you by three shots, so you need to catch up!” 

Laughter echoed around him as he heard male and female voices greeting him as the eclectic group of Gabriel’s friends continued their chattering. Downing the first shot poured, Castiel felt a familiar figure sidle up next to him, and he beamed when he caught sight of Charlie as she took a huge gulp of her own beer. 

“Sailing would suit you,” she teased him, causing him to laugh before he heard another shot get set down in front of him. The chatter around them hushed into whispers and Castiel felt someone’s eyes on him, causing him to turn and see Dean making his way through the crowd towards him. Castiel stood up straighter and watched him curiously, catching how the men and women alike tended to admire Dean as he passed them by, giving them all a charming grin. 

“You left your wallet in Baby,” Dean murmured as he approached, bringing up his hand and passing the wallet off to Castiel. Castiel thanked him and gave him a smile, admiring him just as much as the others hand before the sound of another shot glass being set down beside them was heard and Charlie knocked her hand onto the wood. 

“Alright, you can quit drooling now! It’s not about these two tonight – it's about Gabriel!” 

A cheer ran through the group and someone from the crowd shouted: “Can’t the one with the nice ass stay?!” 

Another cheer – louder this time – sounded and Castiel felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and the width of his grin as Dean flushed and laughed. He raised up his shot glass and the others followed suit as he spoke. 

“To Gabriel and all of the wonderful years he’ll have to torment Sam by being an amazing husband. The best of luck to the both of you. And may everyone you encounter tonight be filled with jealousy to know you’d never go home with them.” 

The words caused Castiel to laugh, along with everyone else as their whooping filled the bar and the shots went down smoothly. Dean shot Castiel a wink and set his emptied glass on the bar before slipping back outside. Castiel didn’t even realize he was staring until Charlie bumped into his side and drew his attention to her, catching the way her lips turned up into a smirk. 

“Come on! Gabe said you had to catch up – so let’s catch you up.”

* * *

When Gabriel had mentioned that he wanted to do a bar crawl for his bachelor party, his original plan had been an unstoppable force of going to almost every bar in the area that they could manage. Thankfully, Charlie and Castiel had managed to talk the drunken man down to four bars by the time the sun had set and everyone was far too many drinks in to be doing any more walking. Between shots, drinking games, and other bar-goers buying celebration rounds, the mood was fairly pleasant and bubbling around everyone. It was apparently infectious, too, because the atmosphere of each bar seemed to completely change the moment the group of disheveled men and women stumbled in. 

The fourth bar was more of a dive than anything else, but it had alcohol and a dance floor, so that was all the group had needed. Finding the bar, Castiel managed to order a gin and tonic without slurring his words too much, and while he waited he shifted his sweater around his waist and re-tied it for the thousandth time that night, just so it wouldn’t slip away and get lost somewhere. Gabriel sidled up beside him and ordered some fruity concoction that would have stalled the old bartender if the rosy smile on Gabriel’s cheeks hadn’t seemed to melt something in the grizzled man’s eyes. 

Castiel let his ass find a stool and he looked up in time to see Gabriel’s features sobering quickly, his eyes locked onto Castiel’s face. “Gabe?” Panic began to well up into Castiel as worry washed over him, his eyes studying the slight blur around his brother’s features. “Gabriel, what’s wrong?” 

“Do you ever... ever regret thingsss, Cassssie?” 

“Gabriel... what’re you talkin’ about?” 

The worry only expanded in his chest as Gabriel looked on the verge of tears, his mouth opening to speak as their drinks were set on the bar. Gabriel’s attention –forever fleeting – was drawn to the glass. He grabbed it and took a large pull from the straw before letting his gaze fall back onto Castiel, who was waiting to hear what the man had to say. 

“Gabe -?” 

“Oh! I love this song!” 

The change of music caused Gabriel to do a complete turn-around, and the smaller man hopped down from the stool and disappeared into the drunken crowd already moving to the beat. Castiel, stunned by the change in conversation and mood, turned to grab his own drink and down a few swallows. The buzz in his brain helped the moment fade and dulled his growing anxiety over what had gone unsaid between them. It must not have been that important, his drunken brain rationalized as he was grabbed by Charlie and soon tugged out onto the dance floor with everyone else.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and joyous Holiday!  
> xo.

* * *

Dean had been in this exact situation a hundred times over, and he’d learned through experience that drinking always made it better. 

The music thumped through the house – one of Sam’s friends, he had been told – and alcohol had been flowing the moment he’d stepped through the door at about three in the afternoon. The sun had long since set by now and Dean couldn’t help but find himself wondering how Castiel was doing. It was a dangerous game his mind was playing with this client, which was what he had to keep reminding himself that Castiel really was to him. They were playing a role together. They were playing a game that Castiel had paid him to partake in. Dena sucked in a sharp breath and downed a bit of whiskey from his glass, rotating the stout cup in his hand as he tried to steer his mind towards other topics. Standing up from the small bar in the corner of the room, he wandered towards a table where some of Sam’s friends were playing a drinking game and entertained himself by becoming a spectator. 

Meanwhile, the groom-to-be chuckled loudly from a different corner table, at a joke that no one else seemed to find particularly funny. They laughed, though, because the goofy grin on Sam’s face was reason enough to join in on the fun. To his left sat Balthazar, broodingly holding the neck of a beer bottle and staring at where Dean had placed himself against the wall, watching some of the others play their games. 

“Look at ‘im over there. Like he’s better than us or something.” 

“Who’re you talkin’ ‘bout now?” 

Sam’s words slurred as he turned his head and caught sight of Dean, knowing immediately that was who Balthazar was sulking about. A chuckle left him and he slapped his hand against his friend’s back, taking a swig from the beer he was holding precariously in his other hand. 

“You’re... jus’ jealous, ya know? Man’s handsome, shackin’ up with your ex, ‘eard he was a doctor of some kind...” Sam hiccupped and took the final swig of his beer before settling the empty bottle down, his words not doing much to dissuade Balthazar’s glare towards the strange man. 

“I’m not jealous, Sam.” 

“Yeah you are! Might not’ve been your friend for long, like Cas’n’Gabe... but, but long ‘nough to know you aren’ good at hidin’ expressions.” 

Sam seemed to find this idea particular entertaining, cracking himself up until he was red in the face. Balthazar rolled his eyes, catching Dean shifting their way from his periphery. Standing himself, he mumbled something about making sure everyone had a place to sleep or a way home and excused himself from the table just in time for Dean to take his seat beside Sam. 

“Don’t think your friend likes me very much,” Dean mused, eyes tracing Balthazar as he practically fled from the room. A small, dark part of him was pleased with the reaction, simply because he knew it would help in Castiel’s cause. It was a part he refused to acknowledge, however, simply because he knew it didn’t matter what Balthazar felt towards him so long as it wasn’t attraction. 

“Eh, don’ worry ‘bout ‘im. Just jealous ‘cause you’re bangin’ Cas.” 

Dean found himself chuckling along with the drunken man, shaking his head but not denying the implication. Glancing around, he saw that some party-goers were gathering their things, on their phones to either call cabs or have someone come to pick them up. _At least they seem to be responsible,_ Dean thought to himself before he stood, glancing down at the large man sitting beside him. 

“How about I take you home, Sam? It’s late already and you don’t want to be too tired for dancing lessons tomorrow, right?” 

“... you’re good to-to drive?” Dean found himself grinning as Sam hiccupped in the middle of his sentence. 

“Yes, of course. Come on. Don’t try to put all of your weight on me now, you hear me? You’ll knock me clean on my ass.” 

This time, when Sam began to laugh loudly, Dean joined him and helped the man get out of the house and into Baby’s passenger seat. He was sure to buckle Sam’s seat belt before climbing into the driver’s side himself and pulling carefully out of the drive. He was thankful that he managed to get Sam’s address out of him before the drunken man dosed off, his head leaned against the window. Dean decided he could make the shorter drive without music tonight.

* * *

“Cassssssiiiiieeeee! Get back in the limo! What’re you doing?!” 

Laughter spilled out of the vehicle as Castiel tumbled from the back seat and out into the coolness of the night. He was chuckling himself, fumbling with his wallet as Charlie sidled up next to him. Her shoes were in her hand and she bumped into him with friendly intentions – but still almost proceeded to knock him over. 

“Get ‘im tiger!” 

“You’re sure you’re fine to... walk home?” 

“Yeah, yeah! Don’ worry ‘bout me! Safest part of town, you know the drill. Maybe that nice lady cop who lives next door will come check on me.” 

Castiel burst into laughter as Charlie waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Then, she turned and whooped a loud wave towards Gabe, who was leaning out of the open sunroof. Her path from their small stop wasn’t too far and Castiel knew that she wasn’t drunk enough to get herself lost when she lived a block away. Charlie saluted him, to which he saluted playfully back before focusing on getting his money from the ATM. 

Ever since he’d made it to the third bar, all he could think about was Dean. How good Dean looked in a suit and tie. How amazing those bow legs looked when he walked. How the freckles on his face always disappeared down his neck, spreading to further locations that were shamefully hidden away beneath his clothes. Castiel licked his lips as he shoved the extra money into his wallet, then proceeded to put his wallet into his pocket before heading back to the limo where Gabe was hooting at passersby. 

“I’m getting marrrrriiiieeeddd!” 

People on the street cheered at him and Castiel rolled his eyes, but smiled as he joined Gabriel through the sunroof just to let the wind rush through his hair. The night was cool, thankfully, and Castiel enjoyed how the breeze felt against his heated cheeks. 

As the limo moved through the streets, the sounds of their cheering and laughter could be heard echoing all around them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, loves! Here's a steamy scene for the upcoming Valentine's Day <3
> 
> xo.

* * *

The journey from the limo to the house wasn’t as silent as Castiel hoped. First, his key stuck in the door and he had to yank it from the handle as it shoved open and knocked into the wall. Then, he tripped over a spare pair of shoes as he tip-toed towards the stairs, cursing softly under his breath. His hand was poised on the railing of the staircase as the dim light from the kitchen caught his eye, bringing him to stop in his path. He turned on a heel – almost stumbling – and headed that direction first. He almost dropped the glass he reached for in the upper cabinets but caught it at the last moment before it could crash into the counter or floor and wake everyone up. Filling it with cold water, he sipped at the glass, a logical part of him reminding the rest of him to stay hydrated so he could avoid waking up with an unbearable headache. At this rate, he was sure he’d have some kind of hangover, but here’s to hoping the water would dull some of the inevitable pain. 

Once the glass was drained, his mind was swimming into a different area altogether. He found the staircase without tripping and carefully walked up each step, counting them beneath his breath. His body carried him to his childhood bedroom at the end of the hall as it had a million times before, a little miracle he was thankful for. He pushed the door open to find it already cracked, easing it back and stepping into his room quietly. He closed the door behind him, hearing the satisfying click of the knob going into place, before turning back around to look around his room. His eyes alighted on the broad figure of Dean resting in the bed, probably already asleep, while his brain formulated an even better idea than his original one. 

Emptying his pockets on the nearby nightstand, Castiel approached the bedside and ran his hand down Dean’s arm. With a grunt, the other man woke and looked at Castiel with a clouded gaze, parting his lips to speak to him, only to have Cas hush him with a finger press. Then, that same hand reached down and took Dean’s that rested atop the comforter, tugging him up gently and willingly out of the bed. Dean watched Castiel with a hooded curiosity in his gaze, his footsteps quiet as he let Castiel lead him from the bedroom and carefully down the stairs. Both men remained quiet as Castiel moved them to the large French doors that opened to the backyard. While Dean liked to think himself a rather adventurous guy, he hoped that Castiel wasn’t thinking of doing what Dean was assuming outside in the grass. The idea of having to get stains and dirt off his skin was never a fun one. Also – having to get up and move _back_ inside instead of enjoying the aftermath? Not appealing in the slightest. 

To Dean’s surprise, however, Castiel rounded a corner in the yard and revealed a beautifully maintained Airstream with the windows propped open. The cool air of the summer night would keep it well ventilated, something Dean was thankful for, and he knew that he’d admire it more once they woke up in the morning… and Castiel wasn’t giving him bedroom eyes. He carefully followed Castiel up the stairs and down the small main cabin into the designated bedroom, watching Castiel back up towards the bed and tug him along. If Cas kept looking at him that way, Dean knew he’d follow him anywhere. Even with flushed cheeks and wearing a ridiculous boating outfit. 

Castiel tugged Dean close, their bodies only a breath away from touching, before he turned Dean so _his_ back was facing the bed, and slipped his hands beneath Dean’s t-shirt. A shudder rolled through the man as he stood still, letting Castiel explore his torso before slipping the shirt willingly over Dean’s head. It dropped somewhere to the side, but Dean didn’t care as Castiel shifted his hands down to the only article of clothing Dean had left – his boxers. Cas made quick work of them, slipping them over Dean’s hips and muscular thighs, letting them pool at his ankles. Dean felt a flush crawl up his back as Castiel raked his interested gaze over Dean with no hesitation, planting a hand on Dean’s chest and pushing him slowly back onto the mattress. Propping himself up on the pillows, Dean’s eyes never wavered from the vision of Castiel as he dropped the ridiculous decorative sweater to the ground and worked on removing his polo since the buttons around his neck must have been undone sometime during the drunken adventures of the night with Gabe. 

Seeing the expanse of skin, lightly tanned from time spent outside, Dean’s breath caught in his throat and his heart thundered. Castiel was unfairly handsome, built like a runner, with a dusting of dark hair trailing from beneath his naval down to the low-riding waistband of his khaki’s. His eyes met back to electric blues, finding that they were still staring at Dean’s naked form, even while deft fingers unbuttoned and unzipped at his shorts. Cas made quick work of them, too, taking his underwear with them so that when he straightened up, Dean could see the rest of his fantastic body. All of his focus zeroed in on Castiel as the man climbed slowly atop him, blue eyes watching Dean’s face until they were eye level. Then, the heat of Castiel pressed down upon Dean and the man bit back a groan, his eyes still watching Castiel’s face closely as the man leaned forward and let his nose brush against Dean’s. 

A broad arm slipped up and over Castiel’s side before slowly turning them both in the bed, Dean now resting atop Cas and glancing down towards the man’s flushed cheeks. A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and Dean returned it. Then, he lowered his mouth to Castiel’s and let their lips work together, his hard cock gently rocking against Castiel’s as it strained up towards his naval. Both men echoed soft groans at the contact and their kiss grew more passionate, deeper as their tongues became involved. Dean’s eager hands shifted over Castiel’s form, exploring what he was able as Castiel freely did the same. A hand drifted down over the curve of Dean’s ass and pulled him closer, causing him to groan louder into Castiel’s mouth as the other man answered breathlessly in return. Their bodies continued to shift and rock against one another until neither man could take it. Cas mumbled something about his pockets and Dean leaned down to sort through them, pulling out a condom and some lube from one. Just as he was about to ask what Castiel wanted to do, he felt a hand against his shoulder, pushing him back to the bed once more. 

Dean was perfectly content to let Castiel have control.

The man was an absolute vision above him, broad thighs dusted with dark hair pinned on either side of Dean’s hips. Dean’s hands rubbed at those thighs, softly massaging easy circles into them as Castiel worked the condom over Dean’s hard cock before shifting some lube onto Dean’s fingers. He gave Dean a salacious wink that came across as a bit amusing, causing Dean to chuckle softly while using his non-lubed hand to tug Castiel forward. The man splayed across his chest and Dean captured his lips, his prepped fingers exploring the round globes of Cas’ ass before finding their mark. He worked a single finger into him, then another, and finally a third before Castiel was a gasping, panting mess that writhed atop his body and lit up every nerve-ending as though it was a livewire. And if Dean thought Castiel was a vision before… he was not prepared for the sight of Castiel lowering himself down over Dean’s cock, head tossed back as blissful cries slipped from his reddened lips. 

Dean’s own grunts and groans joined in as Castiel seated himself against Dean’s hips, though he didn’t remain there for long. The rhythm was hot and hurried, at least at first. Then, Castiel lowered himself back to Dean’s chest and changed the angle to something more intimate, more passionate, and Dean couldn’t find any complaints. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and held him close, feeling the pleasure ride up his body in waves as both men climbed closer and closer to their orgasm. The waves crested close together and both of them trembled as they came down, holding one another close and only separating to briefly clean themselves up. The last thing Dean saw before he closed his eyes was the figure of Castiel curled up in front of him, tucked against his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Something eased within Dean as he drifted off to sleep, a smile on his face.


	10. Update

Hey, readers! 

Just a small update to let all of you know that I haven’t abandoned my stories. I have just been in a bit of a muse rut lately – between traveling, work, and sickness, my muse is trying to vacate my body to a different plane. I am going to try my best to get some chapters out when I can, but no guarantees on just _when_ that may be. 

You might also see some new, shorter stories from me, too. Who knows!

I just know it’s been a while since I’ve written any chapters for y’all and I hate knowing I’m keeping you waiting. I appreciate you all so much and your continued support. Thank you for being you. <3

Much love to you all.  
xo.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some trouble in paradise!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who had kind things to say about my little update. I appreciate you all so much!  
> xo.

* * *

The sun peeking through the small, open windows was warm against Dean’s back. It was a nice way to wake up, especially after having such an eventful night. Green eyes shifted to glance down at the mop of dark hair in front of him and Dean couldn’t stop himself from smiling softly. Castiel was fast asleep, his back curled against Dean’s chest, his body rising and falling with the soft shifting of his breathing. As tempting as it was to stay right there and wait for the other man to wake, Dean had other plans to try and ease Castiel into the morning. He knew that Gabriel’s party probably had resulted in quite a bit of drinking, and while he didn’t know how Castiel handled hangovers or mornings, he had experienced enough to at least gather an idea in the back of his mind on how to treat it. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Castiel’s head and shifted carefully out of the bed, trying his best not to disturb him. To his delight, Castiel remained fast asleep as he padded down the small hall of the Airstream and slipped quietly out of the door. Now… he just had to hope the rest of the house was still asleep, as well, so he could at least make it back to Castiel’s bedroom to put on some more clothes. 

The last thing he wanted was Naomi finding him traipsing around in her hallways wearing just his t-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. 

While the sun was kind enough to be what woke Dean, the rattling and clanging of the garbage truck was what finally roused Castiel. He groaned and rolled over with the noise, grappling with the sheets and his pillow to try and cover his ears as much as possible. After a few moments of fog in his mind, he slowly came to the realization that he wasn’t hearing the garbage truck as muffled as he might if he were behind normal walls and windows. His eyes shot open and caught on the glistening sun as he blearily sat up, rubbing a hand over the back of his pounding head, glancing around. The… the Airstream? He’d slept in the Airstream last night? Shaking his head slowly, he shifted out of the bed and was surprised to find himself completely and utterly naked. His clothes were strewn onto the floor and he was slow, methodical as he picked them up and began to slip the back on. He grimaced at the idea of putting on the same clothes he’d worn the night before, but it was all he had. He surely wasn’t going to walk across his backyard naked in order to get into his house. He’d done a lot of crazy things when he was younger, but those days were in the past. 

Castiel gathered what he believed were all of his belongings and walked down the hall of the Airstream, stopping at the door just before opening it, groaning to himself. “Well, I guess this is a walk of shame, Castiel. Good job.” The words were muttered to no one but himself as he shoved the door open and let it clang shut behind him, carrying his shoes as he moved through the drying grass. He was almost to the back door when a knocking sound caused him to jump and glance up towards the kitchen window – where his father was waving at him, grinning a big, stupid grin. Awkwardly, Castiel waved a hand towards his father and then ducked into the back door, groaning to himself as he rushed through the hallway to make his way back upstairs. Back in the sanctuary of his room, he dropped his shoes and ran his hands over his face, rubbing his palms against his eyes and sighing softly to himself. 

Glancing around, he was surprised to not see Dean there. What he did notice was his wallet on the bedside table, laying half-open rather precariously. He walked over to it and opened it, surprised to see the many bills settled in the fold. Dark brows knitting in confusion, Castiel barely had time to wonder if he needed to give the money to Dean before he heard his bedroom door opening behind him. Twisting around, he dropped the wallet back onto his bed and sat on the edge, trying to appear as casual as possible while Dean balanced a tray between both of his hands.

“Not sure how you handle hangovers – or if you even get them – so I just grabbed whatever I could think of. Coffee, orange juice, some toast… Tylenol, too, if that’s your poison. I’m sure I could find some hair of the dog, too, if you need it –“

Dean was still chuckling at his own joke as he carefully set the tray down on the bed. He turned and leaned towards Castiel, looking for all the world like he was going to plant a kiss on Castiel’s forehead, which caused Castiel to put a hand up that gently touched against Dean’s chest.

“Dean,” he asked quietly, turning those blue eyes onto green. “Dean what… happened last night?”

The change in Dean’s demeanor was immediate. Castiel noticed the way his eyes dulled and how his expression was more forced, causing him to wonder what he’d forgotten, what he’d missed. “Oh nothing, Cas. Nothing important. Just figured you might want to have a little something to cure what I assume is going to be a nasty hangover.” His voice was practiced nonchalance, his smile as charming as ever, but there was… something there, something Castiel was missing, but couldn’t imagine for himself. He’d obviously dreamed them together the night before, right? Most of it was so blurry he wasn’t sure if it was reality or fantasy. 

“Well… thank you,” Castiel said softly, giving Dean a soft smile and hoping to placate the mood by grabbing a piece of toast and biting into it. He chewed thoughtfully and took a sip of the black coffee before standing up and padding his way quietly into the en-suite, shutting the door behind him. Dean stared after him and ran his hands through his short hair, convincing himself not to get any angrier than he was already feeling. He snatched up the glass of orange juice and took a swig, glancing down towards the tray and bed to see a wallet peeking from the edges of the sheets. He slowly grabbed it and thumbed through the money partially falling out, his frown pulling down further at the corners of his mouth. Unable to stop himself, he held the wallet in a tight grip and walked to the bathroom, opening the door carefully and then approaching the closed shower curtain. The water was on and the room was already filling with steam, but Dean didn’t care. 

Castiel let out a surprised sound as Dean ripped the shower curtain open, causing him to jump a little and cover his hands between his legs so he wasn’t completely exposed. He focused just in time to see Dean holding up his wallet, shaking it slightly as he spoke to him.

“This for last night?”

Castiel couldn’t miss the hurt in Dean’s tone, even as the man desperately tried to mask it.

“No, of course not, why would it be? Since nothing happened?”

“Well, if I was gonna charge you I would’ve said so beforehand, thought I explained that?”

Dean’s tone was snarky and it caused Castiel to backpedal slightly, shifting on his feet in the shower carefully.

“I didn’t want you to think… I was expecting anything for free, or, or anything at all! I mean… I was obviously expecting something… since I stopped at the ATM, but, I guess…”

Dean’s look was triumphant, but not in a positive way. It had Castiel’s chest clenching tightly with anxiety. 

“Well, just so you know, you’re two-hundred short.”

Castiel’s jaw dropped as Dean tossed the wallet onto the top of the closed toilet lid. Filled with frustration and anger, Castiel turned off the water and snatched a towel from the rack. “Now wait just a second,” he called after Dean, wrapping the towel around his waist as he emerged from the bathroom, holding the wallet in his hand as he stared at the other man. “You’re telling me that _if_ something had happened I would owe you fourteen-hundred dollars?! That’s the down payment on a car!” The disbelief was clear on his face, in his voice, and it only hit the brick wall that was Dean’s apparent passiveness in that moment. 

“Yeah because it includes… you know, the happy ending. That’s the extra two-hundred.”

Castiel gaped after Dean as the man left the room, then in a burst of anger, he threw his own wallet at the wardrobe and watched the money scatter to the floor.


End file.
